"Wait, wait, wait," Kurt says, laughing through his words, "they were doing acoustic songs and no one thought to ask you to sing?"

"Ridiculous right?"

"They do know you were the lead singer of an a cappella group?"

"I guess they forgot," Blaine replies.

"The same a cappella group that tried to reclaim you earlier this year and stole New Directions' nationals trophy."

"There was a lot going on."

Kurt can practically hear the shrug in Blaine's voice.

"Blaine."

"I'm fine, Kurt... really."

Maybe Kurt's been a little more overprotective since the shooting, but now with the blackout at the school and Blaine running around trying to figure out what happened with Sue, well, Kurt just wants to be sure that he's taking care of himself; that he's speaking up when he needs to. Blaine seems downright distracted, and it has him worried.

"You know you have to make Mr. Schue listen sometimes. He'll let you flounder in the back of the room if-"

"Kurt, really... it's fine. I just wanted to let everyone do their thing. I've done all that stuff."

"True."

"And so have you," Blaine says.

He pauses and Kurt can tell Blaine is reminiscing.

"Do you remember the time I suggested we use pre-recorded music at rehearsal?"

"And Wes nearly broke the gavel."

"He was so pissed."

It feels strange to be finishing each other's sentences again. When had they stopped doing that? When had they started again?

"I miss you," Blaine says suddenly.

"I miss you too."

Kurt wants to tell Blaine he's coming back to Lima to see his dad in a couple weeks, but for some reason, the words won't form.

"So tell me about the benefit," Blaine says, the exuberance clear in his voice. "Did you get to meet anyone famous?"

"Blaine, I was there as a professional," Kurt insists, even though he is dying to tell Blaine how Taylor Swift tripped over her gown and took out an entire table of swag bags.

"Did Santana quit the cage dancing job?"

"Not yet, but she's taking extension classes at NYADA."

"I'll have to tell Tina. She's been getting all high and mighty about it, like it's oh so easy to just figure out your dreams."

Kurt considers Blaine's words for a moment. He and Rachel had been pretty tough on Santana, but he knew she needed the push. She is a lot like him in that way, but doesn't have someone like Blaine to shove her in the right direction. To give her that last little push out of the nest.

"Do you know what your dream is?" he asks.

"We've talked about it," Blaine says, sounding confused.

They had — they'd spent hours discussing their New York plans together — but Kurt can't help but wonder. Lots of things have changed between them since then. In fact, sometimes Blaine seems an entirely different person.

"I just realized you hadn't mentioned New York since Christmas, and I didn't know if things had changed. I mean, you're talking to a guy who was considering Juilliard up until Ms. Pillsbury told me they didn't have a musical theatre program."

"I'm still mocking you for that one."

"Hey, it's a very prestigious school, and 'Fame' was deceptively theatrical."

Blaine laughs and it feels like a warm blanket being draped over his shoulders. He wonders if it will always feel like that.

"Well you figured it all out anyway, and still managed to get into NYADA."

"I can't help but overcome," Kurt says, in his own self-deprecating, yet confident way.

"You've more than overcome, Kurt."

"I'm getting there," he says. Kurt knows he is far from successful, but he also knows his life is starting to become the glamorous New York dream he has always wanted. Almost. "But what about you? Your dreams still the same?"

Blaine goes silent for a moment and then inhales like he's ready to speak.

"Oh crap, that's Sam," he says suddenly. "We're supposed to discuss 'Operation Xylophone.' I gotta go, but I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay," Kurt says, feeling confused as Blaine says his goodbye and hangs up.

He can't help but feel like he has missed something. Some clue as to why Blaine is dodging such a simple question. Maybe Blaine has changed his mind about New York and doesn't want to tell him.

Kurt twists the string from his tea bag around his finger and watches as the tip of it goes white from the pressure and then a bright red before deepening into purple. It's something he does when he's deep in thought: fidgeting with his hands, pulling on his fingers, picking at things. His dad says it reminds him of Kurt's mom whenever she was thinking through something heavy, and right now that's just what Kurt is doing.

Everything is so confusing.

He's torn between wanting Blaine to follow his dreams and also wanting his best friend in New York with him. Maybe he should tell Blaine that. It occurs to him that maybe Blaine isn't sure what Kurt wants. The problem is that Kurt isn't sure what he wants. Is he ready for Blaine in his life full-time again? Is he ready for him not to be?

Kurt sighs and starts to untwist the string from his index finger. His phone pings from the table while he's tossing the tea bag in the trash.

It's a text from Blaine.

"For the record, I still want to come to New York," it says.

Kurt smiles at the screen, realizing in a sudden rush that he's relieved. He wants Blaine in his life – can't imagine it any other way. He's glad he won't have to.

He swipes his thumb over the screen to type out a reply, but another text comes through before he has the chance.

"I'll tell you about my other dream next time I see you."